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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019132">it's you I find like a ghost in my mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sa_kun/pseuds/Sa_kun'>Sa_kun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Harry's quest for parental guidance, One Shot, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Stubborn Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:22:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sa_kun/pseuds/Sa_kun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is ten when he finds a picture of his mum. He finds it in the furthest reaches of his Aunt and Uncle’s attic, at the very bottom of an old, dusty box. His mum is young, is smiling, is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. The black makeup around her eyes make them stand out and impossible to miss.</p>
<p>Harry knows it’s his mum because her eyes are the same as his.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>OR: Harry just wants to know a bit more about his mum.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>literally amazing i could read these over and over</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's you I find like a ghost in my mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't know exactly when I wrote this, but it was <i>years</i> ago. Anyway, I read through it and didn't dislike what I found, so I decided to just post it. I don't know where I was planning on taking it, but as a one-shot it kind of works, so, you know. Here it is.</p>
<p>[title is from Emmylou by First Aid Kit]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>lilies are vibrant, too -- lilies are more vibrant than fire</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry is ten when he finds a picture of his mum. He finds it in the furthest reaches of his Aunt and Uncle’s attic, at the very bottom of an old, dusty box. His mum is young, is smiling, is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. She has red hair – short and spiky and glittery. There’s a band logo on her T-shirt and the trousers she’s wearing look like leather. She’s got one green shoe and one purple, one long, dangling earring like a snake from one earlobe and a small starburst in the other. The black makeup around her eyes make them stand out and impossible to miss.</p>
<p>She looks like a rebel. Like a supernova. She looks like the pictures he’d seen in school, of punkrockers and hooligans. </p>
<p>Except she’s smiling, like she’s the happiest she’s ever been.</p>
<p>Harry knows it’s his mum because her eyes are the same as his.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>When Harry is eleven and he’s finally made it to Hogwarts and is out of his relatives’ house for the first time in his life, he finds the second person in the photograph.</p>
<p>The man isn’t wearing tight leather trousers or a jacket with metal studs all over it. He doesn’t have a T-shirt with a rainbow on it or a cigarette in his hand. The man is still dressed in black, his hair is still long, face more sallow but still as pale, angry and serious looking. He looks like a wizard, and almost nothing like the boy standing next to his mum in the photo, with an almost-smile on his face.</p>
<p>Part of Harry is a little disappointed, because he’d hoped that maybe the man in the photo with his mum had been his dad. Harry knows his dad is dead, though, and the teacher at the table in front of him is very clearly alive.</p>
<p>Harry pockets the information away just in time for McGonagall to call his name to be sorted.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Gryffindor is loud. It’s too loud. Harry is used to being left alone, to being told to mind his own business and to make himself scarce. Really, his relatives tell him, it would have been better if Harry’d just never existed in the first place.</p>
<p>Gryffindor is nice, too, because for the first time in a long time, people his age actually talk to him. He might make friends, which is a novel concept. His House is still loud, though, and it doesn’t take him long at all to find a quiet nook he can slip away to whenever he needs to.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry never tells anyone about the picture of his mum and Snape. He keeps it close and treasures it, thinks about it every time someone tells him about his dad and how much Harry favours him, thinks about it because it’s always <em> Dad </em> and never <em> Mum </em>.</p>
<p>He wonders, because Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other. He wonders if maybe people never talk about his mum because she was friends with a boy from the wrong House. He wonders if maybe people who say they don’t put stock in blood and heritages maybe still <em> do </em>, because his dad was a pureblood and they all talk about him, not his mum who was a Muggleborn who was friends with Slytherins.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Snape isn’t nice, necessarily. He’s stern, sometimes mean, and he sees <em> everything </em>. Harry doesn’t exactly like him, but he feels settled and on even ground around him, because Snape is a fairer version of Uncle Vernon. Snape doesn’t tolerate slacking, won’t stand for mischief in his classroom. He never punishes the Slytherins – not in public, anyway, but Harry overhears Snape telling Malfoy off after one too many attempts at making Harry’s potion blow up, and, well. </p>
<p>There’s that, then there’s this:</p>
<p>Snape isn’t the first teacher to tell Harry to stay behind. In Muggle school, it happened every other week because Harry was never given time at the Dursley’s to do his homework. At Hogwarts, it’s a lot rarer. Usually, it’s Snape who asks, because usually, Harry can’t make his potions turn out right.</p>
<p>Snape stares at him from behind his desk. He taps at the board and says, voice smooth as silk and cold as ice, “Read the instructions for me, Potter. Out loud.”</p>
<p><em> Oh, no </em> , Harry thinks. He had a teacher who liked making him read out loud in front of the whole class, who <em> tsk </em> ’ed and <em> tut </em>’ed at him when he got it wrong, when he was too slow.</p>
<p>“Anytime now. I don’t have all day.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir, “ Harry mumbles, then strains as far forward as the desk he’s sitting behind allows. “Uh, eight sha— <em> snake </em> fangs, ground up.”</p>
<p>Snape taps the board with his wand and the number Harry just read lights up. “Six, not eight. Continue.”</p>
<p>“Nine—”</p>
<p>“Four,” Snape corrects, repeating the gesture from before.</p>
<p>Harry closes his mouth, clenching his teeth together. He doesn’t know what Snape’s trying to do, but Harry feels the ball of ice growing in his stomach, the one that makes him feel like he’s wrong, like he’s stupid, a freak.</p>
<p>“The next line, Potter.”</p>
<p>Harry shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he whispers.</p>
<p>“Of course you do,” Snape says. “Read it.”</p>
<p>“Fin— finely chop e-eight flo-flowe— Flobberworms.”</p>
<p>“Three Flobberworms, Potter.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Snape hands him a note to take to Madame Pomfrey. Harry doesn’t know what it says, but he knows what it does: it makes Pomfrey cluck her tongue and examine Harry, his eyes and his glasses. It throws the world into focus. Suddenly, Harry can read what the teachers write on the blackboards without difficulty, can tell numbers and letters apart with ease.</p>
<p>Harry can see now and the only person who noticed that he couldn’t before is the one teacher every student claims to be the worst.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry never tells his friends about it, but he tucks the knowledge away to the same place he keeps the photo of Snape and his mum and he never forgets.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>That summer, Harry visits the Weasleys and is thrown into a world of colour and life. He sleeps on a cot in Ron’s room and doesn’t go hungry for even a second. It’s the best place he’s ever been that isn’t Hogwarts and Harry loves it, even if it’s a little loud and he has a hard time finding a quiet place to hide in, when it all gets to be a little too much.</p>
<p>He finds himself hiding in Mr Weasley’s office one day. He pulls out his school books and starts in on his homework, reading through it carefully to make sure he’s got every detail right. He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he never hears the door open, is only aware that he’s not alone anymore when Mr Weasley crouches down on the floor where Harry’s lying.</p>
<p>“Hello, Harry,” Mr Weasley says, kind smile on his face.</p>
<p>“Hi, Mr Weasley,” Harry says, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry—”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, it’s quite all right. I don’t mind you hiding in here. What are you working on?”</p>
<p>“M’transfiguration homework,” Harry mumbles. Mr Weasley hums, and it prompts Harry to tell him everything about the homework, about transfiguration, about how difficult Harry finds it and how he doesn’t really understand how it works. Mr Weasley listens and offers helpful advice, reads through what Harry’s written and points out spelling errors and where he might want to recheck his book to double-check his facts.</p>
<p>“Are you good with numbers, sir?”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to call me sir, Harry,” Mr Weasley says gently.</p>
<p>“My uncle prefers it,” Harry says.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m not your uncle,” Mr Weasley says firmly, “and it just so happens that I’m not too shabby with numbers. Did you need help with something?”</p>
<p>Harry nods. “I’ve got new glasses now, so I can see all the numbers. But the big ones jump around sometimes, so I don’t know if I got it right.”</p>
<p>Mr Weasley hums and takes the piece of paper Harry hands him. “When did you get new glasses? This summer?”</p>
<p>Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t look Mr Weasley in the eye when he explains, because everything that has to do with <em> Snape </em> and <em> nice </em> is a guarded secret Harry keeps close to his heart. “No, at Hogwarts. A, a teacher noticed I wasn’t seeing the instructions right, so he sent me to Madame Pomfrey to get my eyes checked out.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Mr Weasley says, then looks over the paper Harry handed him. It’s filled with numbers, big numbers, split into seven groups and then added back together again to make sure the end result is the same number as the one Harry started out with. “Is this your money, Harry?”</p>
<p>Harry nods, biting his lip, suddenly nervous. “I know it looks like a lot, but it’s not, is it? The first time I saw it, it was— It looked like a mountain of gold, like a treasure, but then I started counting how much I spent to get all my supplies last year, and— Is it enough, do you think? For Hogwarts?”</p>
<p>“I think it just might be,” Mr Weasley says. “Your numbers are almost correct, except in these two places, see? You switched the numbers around.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Mr Weasley tells Harry that he doesn’t have to get tailored robes at Madame Malkin’s every year, that he can buy standard robes in his size and that Mrs Weasley knows a few nifty spells that will make them last just as long as any made by Madame Malkin’s. Books can sometimes be found second hand and so can cauldrons.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>When Harry is twelve and the whole school knows he is a Parslemouth, Harry finds Snape’s classroom empty except for three tanks on the man’s desk. Each tank has a snake in it, all of them lazy and thick and full of mice. There are a several empty jars next to the tanks with neat labels on them, all titled “<em> VENOM </em>” and the species of snake they come from.</p>
<p>The detention is unusual, because Snape isn’t there and Harry spends a couple hours chatting to snakes and letting himself relax. Talking to snakes isn’t evil, and Harry knows it isn’t, but it’s easy to forget when the whole school is against you.</p>
<p>Half an hour before curfew, Snape comes back to the classroom to find Harry curled up in the professor’s chair behind the desk, all three snakes firmly coiled around whichever appendage means they can keep eye contact with Harry the easiest, deeply engrossed in conversation. </p>
<p>“Did you at least bother to milk their venom?” Snape says. “Or have you spent the entire detention playing tea party?”</p>
<p>Harry jumps a little, because even though he’s usually aware of adults skulking about near him, he tends to miss Snape. Snape is silent, quiet and has a way of always being there even though you could’ve sworn he was nowhere near you.</p>
<p>“No, I milked them,” Harry says. “They didn’t like it, but, yeah, I got it done. They just didn’t want to go back.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Snape says. “You’re dismissed, Potter.”</p>
<p>It takes a while for Harry to leave, because the snakes don’t really want to let go and keep slithering up his arms when he’s putting them down. He laughs, trying to get them to stay put, and Snape never tells him to hurry up, to stop fooling around.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry has a lot of detentions in the dungeons where Snape fails to show up that year.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Snape <em> can </em> be nice, Harry learns, he just isn’t obvious about it, and stores the knowledge with the photo and his mum. Snape just doesn’t want people to know, because he hides in shadows and plays more games than Harry can readily name or follow.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry is thirteen when the school is invaded by Dementors, Animagi and werewolves. </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“Remain after class, Potter,” Snape snaps as he vanishes the potion in Harry’s cauldron.</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” Harry mutters and crosses his arms. Snape raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything about the glower on Harry’s face or his attitude. The potion had been more or less okay and Harry feels nettled and annoyed that Snape vanished it. It doesn’t matter that Snape is probably playing another one of his games or whatever – the potion had been acceptable and vanishing it like that was just mean.</p>
<p>Hermione sends Harry a sympathetic look, and Ron doesn’t leave until he’s given Snape several dirty looks. Malfoy smirks and Crabbe and Goyle snigger. </p>
<p>When the door to the classroom slams shut, Snape follows it up with privacy and silencing spells.</p>
<p>“You broke into my office,” Snape says, leaning back against his desk at the front of the room. Snape is tall, thin, and he crosses his legs as he stands. It gives the appearance of someone not being particularity bothered. It strikes Harry that his mum must have been pretty tall, too, because in the picture Snape hadn’t been much taller. Or maybe Snape hit a late growth spurt? </p>
<p>Harry glares, because this? This is just petty. And <em> mean </em>.</p>
<p>“I want an explanation, Potter.”</p>
<p>“Is it still breaking in if the door was open?” Harry asks.</p>
<p>“Semantics,” Snape says and waves his wand. On the desk behind him two big containers, a cauldron and a sack Harry’d borrowed from Hagrid appear. Snape raises an eyebrow and looks at Harry. “Well?”</p>
<p>Harry pouts mulishly, then says, “You were nice. Last year. So I was nice back.”</p>
<p>Snape scoffs. “I let you hide in my classroom, Potter. I didn’t pluck the moon out of the sky for you.”</p>
<p>Harry frowns. “What?”</p>
<p>“Do you have any idea how much a basilisk is worth?” Harry starts to shake his head, but Snape goes on, “On the black market, of course, because harvesting a basilisk is quite illegal. Endangered species, and what not.”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Harry says.</p>
<p>“Articulate like your father,” Snape mutters.</p>
<p>“What about my mum?” Harry snaps back, and, yeah. Floodgates: open. “Huh? What’ve you got to say about her? Why doesn’t anyone ever have anything to say about her!? Was she really into Ramones or Patti Smith or whatever or was that just a phase? And smoking—!”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“—Was that just you or did she smoke too? What about my mum, Snape! WHY DOESN’T ANYONE EVER TALK ABOUT MY MUM?!”</p>
<p>“Sit down!” Snape shouts and Harry realises that he’s standing just inches in front of Snape. He feels warm, heavy, his heart is racing and he’s panting, like he’s been screaming at the top of his lungs. Maybe he has, Harry has no idea, he just knows that ever since Lupin started teaching Defence, Harry’s heard more tales about his father than the previous two years together and <em> no one ever talks about his mum </em>!</p>
<p>“Sit down,” Snape repeats. “And be silent.”</p>
<p>Harry breathes, short, fast agitated gulps of air, and he sits down in the chair closest to Snape. “Sorry,” he mutters, and adds, “Sir,” for good effect because being polite is never a bad idea when you’ve done something stupid. Like shout at a teacher.</p>
<p>Snape looks pained when he says, “Why would you think your mother smoked, Potter?”</p>
<p>“Well, you did, didn’t you?” Harry mutters, glaring at the scratched and worn top of the desk.</p>
<p>Snape is quiet, then says, “Why shouldn’t I take points for insolence right now?”</p>
<p>Harry narrows his eyes, chin jutting out stubbornly. “Because the Dementors are causing me great stress,” he says, deadpan.</p>
<p>Snape rolls his eyes. “The Dementors, of course.” With a wave of his hand, the desk in front of Harry is replaced with a chair that Snape sits down in. His expression is closely guarded, his eyes dark. Snape looks utterly blank as he asks, “What did you find, Potter? I assume it was something your Aunt had squirreled away? No, don’t look at the floor: look at me. What did you find?”</p>
<p>Harry grits his teeth. “I found a photo of my mum when I was ten. I never told anyone, or Aunt’d have, well.” Aunt Petunia did have a way with frying pans when she thought Harry was in the way, which usually was because he’d breathed or something. “I wasn’t sure until Hagrid got me a photo album. I mean, that it was my mum.”</p>
<p>“Petunia didn’t keep pictures, then?”</p>
<p>Harry shakes his head. “I don’t think she liked my mum all that much.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Snape says. “What else was in the photo?”</p>
<p>“You.” Harry shrugs. “I thought maybe it was my dad, but, you know. It was easier to tell my mum by her eyes. Lots of people have dark hair, so I wasn’t sure until the sorting.”</p>
<p>For a short moment, Snape looks away. Then he clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling. “I think I can be fairly certain that I’m not your father, no.”</p>
<p>“<em> Fairly </em>—” Harry squeaks out, because that’s a long way from ‘no way in hell’ and a lot closer to ‘it could’ve happened’ than Harry feels comfortable with.</p>
<p>“Oh, come off it, Potter.”</p>
<p>“I read about punk rockers, you know,” Harry says. “About law breaking and protesting and drugs and—”</p>
<p>“Hogwarts is a strict school,” Snape cuts in. “You come here to learn magic and socialise with people your own age. It’s not a great institution for independent thinking and expressing yourself. In comparison, the Muggle world is a cornucopia of freedom. Your mother and I grew up in a small worker’s town. When we weren’t here, we had to find other ways of entertaining ourselves and music seemed harmless enough.”</p>
<p>“Smoking kills,” Harry puts in. </p>
<p>“Yes, and so do wizards. We were young and foolish. No one saw anything wrong with cigarettes in those days.”</p>
<p>“But how can you only be <em> fairly </em> certain?” Harry asks. “Because—”</p>
<p>Snape rolls his eyes. “Enough of that,” he says.</p>
<p>“No,” Harry protests, “Not ‘enough’ of that! Were you and my mum—”</p>
<p>“Potter,” Snape says, with enough bite in his tone that Harry snaps his mouth shut. “Lily was my best friend. Is that ‘enough’ for you?”</p>
<p>“Not really,” Harry says, almost under his breath. Close, but not quite, and he knows it. Snape does too, because he rolls his eyes again and looks back up at the ceiling. “No one talks about her.”</p>
<p>Snape sighs. “I suppose that might be because no one really knew her.”</p>
<p>“Besides you.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because she was a small town girl who grew up with Muggles, Potter. Magic, Hogwarts – even though she loved it, it was a bit much to take in at times.” Snape raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you can sympathise.”</p>
<p>Harry just nods, because that’s true. Sometimes it even seems like Hermione has an easier time of it than he does. It might be because people don’t expect her to be a hero, but it could also be because they’re just different. Hermione loves books and learning with a passion Harry doesn’t have. Harry loves to fly and sometimes he needs to be alone to get his head back in order. Hermione just sucks it all up. “I didn’t know werewolves were real until your class,” he says.</p>
<p>“Yes, well, suffice to say they are quite real and quite dangerous under the wrong circumstances.”</p>
<p>“Was it just you and her, then?”</p>
<p>Snape shrugs a little, the barest hint of a shoulder moving. “Not precisely. She was popular, well-liked, but she shared a dormitory with two girls who’d known each other since childhood. Childhood bonds don’t break easily, and they are often quite reclusive towards outsiders. They didn’t have time for her and Lily wasn’t too bothered by it. We had each other and that seemed sufficient.”</p>
<p>“So she didn’t get in trouble? Because you were in Slytherin and all?”</p>
<p>“Not as such.” Snape raises that damnable eyebrow of his again, then says, “It might come as no surprise to you that I wasn’t well-liked in school. My House took even less kindly to Muggleborns in those days than today.”</p>
<p>“Are you a Muggleborn, too, then?”</p>
<p>“No,” Snape says.</p>
<p>“Oh, but—”</p>
<p>“My father was a Muggle. He wasn’t very fond of magic.”</p>
<p>“Like my Aunt and Uncle, then.”</p>
<p>Snape’s eyes hone in on Harry and the scrutiny makes Harry feel somewhat like a badly chopped Flobberworm. “How so?”</p>
<p>“Well, they think it’s freakish. They jump every time someone even says the word magic, and if I did it before I got my letter here, they’d lock me up. I think they’d really be happiest if I never went to school, but at the same time they hate having me underfoot, too, so their logic doesn’t really make sense to me.”</p>
<p>“Lock you up?”</p>
<p>Harry closes his mouth. Snape has been strangely approachable, Harry thinks. Enough so that Harry for a moment almost forgot who he was talking to, what he was saying. It’s not that the Dursleys treat him bad or anything, it’s just that they haven’t ever treated him good, either. It’s sometimes easy to overlook how much they fear magic, Harry thinks, because they act so much like magic is the worst thing that ever existed, like they hate it and look down on it, that the underlying fear is often pushed away.</p>
<p>It’s not their fault that Harry is a wizard, that his mum was a witch, that magic and politics got her and his dad killed.</p>
<p>“Potter,” Snape says, a hint of warning and steel and ice in his tone.</p>
<p>“It’s not their fault that they got saddled with me,” Harry says.</p>
<p>“People aren’t saddled with children,” Snape says. “Children, however, are on occasion saddled with the wrong type of guardian. Where did they lock you up?”</p>
<p>Harry shrugs. “In m’cupboard,” he mumbles to his toes. He can see his socks through the toes of Dudley’s ratty old trainers and wishes he’d thought to buy new shoes when he stayed in Diagon Alley at the end of the summer. But the Alley had been bustling and distracting, and Harry’d had so much exploring to do that he’d quite forgot about it. Besides, shoes are expensive and he isn’t sure if he remembered to add them to his equations of how much money he is allowed to spend every year. “It was nice and quiet in there, a bit dark. Uncle Vernon was too big to fit inside and Aunt Petunia thought it was too dirty and she didn’t like the spiders, so she’d stay out, too.”</p>
<p>Snape takes a deep breath before he speaks. “You are aware that it is illegal to lock children away inside cupboards?”</p>
<p>“Lots of people have it worse, sir. I’m just an unwelcome burden. They didn’t want me, they never wanted me, it’s all they ever tell me.”</p>
<p>“Lack of want is not an excuse or invitation for ill-treatment, Potter.”</p>
<p>“Dumbledore says I have to stay with them, though, so I don’t see how it matters that they don’t, don’t treat me as they would’ve if I’d have been normal.”</p>
<p>“Normal?”</p>
<p>“You know, not a wizard.”</p>
<p>“It pains me to say it, but I’ve rarely seen a more normal, average wizard than yourself. In addition, ‘normal’ is a word invented to group people together according to pre-recognised standards of socially acceptable norms. In short: it’s largely bullcrock, Potter.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Now, was there anything else?”</p>
<p>Harry bites his lips. “Sir? What was my mum like?”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“I really should give you detention for entering the Chamber of Secrets alone, Potter.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry learns that his mum changed hairstyles the way others might change socks. She’d go from a pixie cut to long to a bob to a mohawk – Snape tells Harry that Mrs Evans had taken one look at Lily and forced her to cut it into a more sensible, shorter style and that Lily had shaved it all off in response (apparently, Harry’s gran had then gone to Snape’s mum for a potion which she’d mixed into Lily’s tea that made her hair grow back out again). Harry learns that his mum loved alternative fashion, that she’d loved going to flea markets and fairs, that she’d been good at sewing, crafting her own clothes with an ease and sense of practicality that Harry envies.</p>
<p>Lily liked blueberry pie, she loved the Narnia books, loved to solve large, intricate puzzles. She’d once convinced Snape to move around all the books in the Hogwarts library, then managed to pin the blame on Harry’s dad and his friends. They’d got a month worth of detentions and Lily and Snape had walked free, laughing themselves silly over it for weeks.</p>
<p>Lily was good at potions in school, almost as good as Snape, but she’d loved Charms and Ancient Runes with a passion. Harry wishes he’d known that before he picked divination and wonders if it’s too late to switch subjects.</p>
<p>Harry’s mum had a temper and she freckled like a Weasley in the sun. She drove like a hooligan and swore like a sailor. She enjoyed listening to Ramones, but preferred Patti Smith and would’ve picked David Bowie over both. She was brave, but the Sorting Hat had apparently considered Hufflepuff as well for her, because she was a hard worker and rejoiced in putting that extra bit of effort in for a well-deserved result. </p>
<p>Lily preferred cats over dogs, she was allergic to pollen and always came down with the flu every November, like clockwork. She never told her parents, but when she turned seventeen, she and Snape had snuck to London and she’d got a tattoo.</p>
<p>Harry’s mum was a rebel, he thinks, she was vibrant and full of life. She was a fighter and a creator, and she was passion. She was his mum and she loved him enough to die for him so that he might live, even if she did not.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>After, when Harry is alone in his bed in his dorm, he digs out the photo of his mum and Snape, the one he keeps under his pillow. He looks at it, traces his mum’s smile with his fingers. It’s dark, he’s alone, and no one can see his wet cheeks or his red eyes. He wonders how it’s possible to miss someone you’ve never known, but Harry misses her, misses his dad, and he wishes for a future he can never have even as he mourns the past that was stolen from him by bright green light and Voldemort’s evil laughter.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Harry is thirteen when he takes to sneaking inside Snape’s office under his Invisibility Cloak. If the office is empty, then he leaves it on and curls up in the armchair closest to the fire. If Snape’s there, then he takes the Cloak off and curls up in the armchair closest to the fire. Usually, Snape will provide tea. Sometimes, he’ll push for conversation and sometimes he’ll comment on Harry’s homework, but most of the time he’ll let Harry sit in silence.</p>
<p>It goes on like that for weeks, until the lists for who’s going to stay at Hogwarts are posted in the common rooms, and Snape turns to Harry one evening and asks, “Were you planning on staying for Christmas, Potter?”</p>
<p>“I always do,” Harry says.</p>
<p>“Hmmm,” Snape says. “There’s no rule that says you have to go back to your relatives, you know. If you wanted to get away from the Dementors for a while. What with the undue stress they are causing you, and all.”</p>
<p>Harry’s heart starts to thump unnecessarily hard. “What do you mean?” he asks, tugging on a loose thread on his jumper. It’s the one Mrs Weasley knitted for him last year, worn and frayed at the edges, a little tighter now than it used to be before Snape started feeding him nutrition potions. It’s warm, though, and Harry loves it because someone cared enough to make it for him.</p>
<p>“Even Heads of Houses get time off, Potter. No Slytherins are going to remain this year, not with the threat of Dementors so close to the school. As I’m not required to be here, I intend to go home. If you would like to spend some time away from the school, I would not find your company too bothersome.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Harry says. The smile curling his lips is small, shy – <em> private </em>. It’s the one that slips out when he traces his mum’s short hair in the photo, when he wonders at her smile and her mismatching jewellery – Harry’s mum was a real person and she loved him more than anything.</p>
<p>Snape doesn’t say anything. When Harry finally dares to look up from the mutilated thread in his lap, he finds Snape reading a book, a Muggle pen in hand as he writes comments in the margin. He looks unbothered and relaxed, expression calm. </p>
<p>“Where do you live, professor?”</p>
<p>“I have a small house in Wales,” is all Snape says, and won’t answer any other question Harry has on the matter. It’s frustrating, because now that Harry knows Snape has a house, that he wants <em> Harry </em> to come home with him over the Holiday, Harry has an itch inside him that needs to find out everything about where Snape lives.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>When the last Hogsmeade weekend arrives, Harry is tired, cold and a little grumpy. The Weasley twins give him a map of the school, show him a hidden passage out of the school and Harry…</p>
<p>Harry stands there, looking at the ugly statue and, for some reason, thinks about Snape. It’s true that he wants to go, he wants to go <em> so </em> bad, but there are Dementors everywhere and Sirius Black is out there somewhere, wanting to kill him. If he goes, he’s pretty sure that Snape <em> will </em> kill him. Worse, he might make Harry stay at Hogwarts over the holidays and Harry would really like to go somewhere else, if only for a little while.</p>
<p>So Harry stares at the secret passage, goes to the kitchens and is plied with food by the House Elves, then goes back to stare at the statue some more, this time with a big cup of hot chocolate. </p>
<p>“You better not be thinking of doing anything foolish, Potter,” Snape says.</p>
<p>“Fred and George told me I’d end up in the basement of Honeydukes,” Harry says. </p>
<p>“Also in detention until the end of time.”</p>
<p>“That’s a lot of detentions, sir. Are you sure you’d want to see me that often? I’d never be out of your hair.”</p>
<p>Snape smirks. “As opposed to now, you mean? You’re in my office every other day, Potter.”</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>It’s easier than Harry thinks it will be. He tells his friends – of course he does – and while they think it’s odd and are worried, nothing they say or do changes Harry’s mind (not even when Hermione tells Professor Dumbledore, or when Harry receives a letter from Mrs Weasley [the letter is supportive, kind, and Harry thinks Mrs Weasley just gave him permission to hit Ron over the head for not being able to see past his own nose, but he isn’t sure]). Harry’s going to stay with Snape, get away from Hogwarts and the Dementors for a while, and that’s that. </p>
<p>He arrives in the dungeons with his packed trunk exactly when Snape had told him to do, and they use the Floo to get out of Hogwarts. They arrive in Hogsmeade and Snape Apparates them away to a muddy crossroads situated between grown and yellow fields. “Well, then,” Snape says, and starts walking down the dirt path.</p>
<p>The countryside is green and wet and brown, but it’s not raining. The wind is cold and Harry tugs his coat tighter around him. The house, when Harry finally catches sight of it, is tucked in against a grove of trees, sitting right beside a bend in the river trickling by. There’s a hill on the other side and Harry can spy more trees, fields and plains of grass stretching away into the horizon.</p>
<p>The house itself is small, red bricks and with green painted wood encasing the windows. From where Harry is standing he can only just make out a watermill.</p>
<p>“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Snape says.</p>
<p>“It’s great,” Harry says.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Living with Snape is easy. Harry is a bit surprised, actually, because he’d expected them to clash, had expected Snape to shout, to have lists of chores and rules.</p>
<p>Living with Snape means Harry is safe, it means he doesn’t go hungry and that his clothes always fit right. His sneakers don’t have holes in them and Harry can’t remember the last time he walked around with wet and cold feet outside or went to bed hungry.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Snape’s house is small, cosy instead of cramped, lived in instead of shabby.</p>
<p>Tucked into his bed, the rain pattering quietly on the glasspanes, Harry brings out his mental box of treasures and removes the cross over the ‘is Snape my dad?’ question he’d put there long before he even knew who Snape was. Harry brings the question closer, examines it, considers Snape. Snape is strict, fair. He’s not always nice and he has a temper. But he’s also kept Harry safe on more than one occasion, and he’s looked after Harry, seen to his wellbeing – like the snakes and the nutrition potions, like making sure Harry’s glasses were right.</p>
<p>Best of all, Snape invited Harry to stay with him over Christmas. He fitted the small attic room with a bed and a desk and cleared out the small cupboard next to his room for Harry’s clothes. His broom is in the foyer, leaning against the corner next to the coatrack. Hedwig’s perch is in the glass encased patio by the kitchen.</p>
<p>Snape’s home is more Muggle than the Weasleys, but it has the same little oddities to it, little quirks that Harry loves because they are constant reminders that <em> Harry is a wizard </em>. There are cauldrons in the kitchen, standing on top of the cupboards. The scenic photos move in their frames, trees waving gently in the wind and lakes rippling gently. The little bowl on the mantle of the fireplace has Floo Powder in it, and the plants on Snape’s windowsills are all vibrant with colour and motion.</p>
<p>Harry loves it.</p>
<p>--</p>
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